Rational Irrationality
by Child of Loki
Summary: Sarah Reese is feeling extremely irrational and can't figure out why. Because Jeff Clarke could never give her any reason to be jealous, right? (Clarke/Reese)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Chicago Med**_ **or its characters…**

 **Author's Note: Help me! Sarah Reese and Jeff Clarke won't leave me alone. They insisted on more. But I can't devote all my writing time to them, so updates will likely only be weekly. I want to say you don't have to have read my other fic Savior Complex, but it does tell the origin story for how Clarke/Reese pairing came to be in my AU.**

 **WARNING: Some references to mature subject matter. Nothing explicit (I don't think)... yet.**

 **Enjoy?**

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Forget a cup of coffee. Morning Sex was the best way to the start the day, Sarah Reese decided, as she lay in a blissful, boneless, panting heap on Jeff Clarke's bed. She yelped as strong hands flipped her over onto her back and his tall, leanly muscled body covered hers, sweaty and hot and sated _perfection_. He began kissing at her neck again and she wrapped her arms around him to hold him close and revel in the post-coital cuddling.

"Mm... We should do this more often," she said.

"I thought you didn't really like to be taken from behind." Jeff brushed away the curls of her hair that had stuck to her damp cheek and kissed her, grabbing her ass and giving her a squeeze at the same time, making her yelp again. "But if you'd prefer being woken up like this everyday, I'm okay with that."

He was being facetious. But he was always the most light-hearted when freshly laid. And maybe it was this carefree moment of pure contentment that she enjoyed most about Morning Sex.

"You know I love every minute with you." It was true she preferred looking into his steel-grey eyes when they made love, but a good, rough romp got her heart pumping just as fast, making her body hum. He always made her body hum with pleasure. Maybe because he knew her desires sometimes before she did, like that at this moment, she wanted to kiss on him. He rolled them so that she was lying on top, giving her better access to nuzzle the silver flecked grey curls on his chest and then to try to suck a mark onto his neck, which he thwarted probably just in time.

It was a little game they played with one another, especially when they had some sexy times in the morning. Trying to see if they could get away with visibly marking their lover, which would doubtless be extremely embarrassing for the markee when they got to the hospital and their work colleagues and friends just stared at the hickey all day. But it would be extremely pleasing to the one marking their territory. He'd managed to get her once or twice with a love bite, but she could hide it with her nebulous curly hair. Jeff would be shit out of luck if she managed to mark him on the neck.

He tangled his fingers in her untamed curly locks and gently tugged her head back, occupying and distracting her mouth with his.

In the back of Sarah's mind she realized there really might not be time for a cup of coffee before they had to leave for their shifts at the hospital. But this was _so_ much better than coffee.

"Mm..." Yummy. Jeff Clarke was just so _yummy_. She raked her fingers through his short mousy-brown hair, admiring how the silver highlights glinted in the morning light. His body was solid and warm and so nicely formed. She knew every inch of him now and still the feel of him beneath her, against her, or _inside_ of her thrilled her to her core. The way he looked at her with his steel-colored eyes, sometimes blue, sometimes grey...

She loved him. She loved how loyal and honest he was. She loved how compassionate and empathetic he was. She loved the way he was considerate enough to put the toilet seat down and didn't mind picking up feminine products for her (probably more a result of being married before but still, he was thoughtful). She loved the way he could tell she was having a bad day, and when he needed to prod her to talk about it or give her some space. She loved, but also hated, the amount of body heat he produced. Sometimes it comforted her. Sometimes, she woke up uncomfortable and drenched in sweat and had to open a window or crank the AC or go sleep on the couch. She hated how his protective nature teetered on the edge of being too much, going too far, was sometimes almost controlling until she pointed it out and he reined it in. She hated that when they were with a group of his friends, he seemed self conscious about how his girlfriend was only 26 years old. She hated it because she loved him.

She loved him.

"I love you."

His steel eyes sparkled at her.

"I love you, too, Strawberry."

Oh, and she both hated and loved his pet name for her. She hated it because he didn't call her 'strawberry' referring to the scent of her shampoo (she'd blushed so hard when he explained the real reason to her). But she also loved it because it was a sign of his genuine and deep affection for her.

She kissed him and then hugged him, snuggling against his chest, letting the beating of his heart and rhythm of his breathing lull her into a trance-like state bordering on unconsciousness.

The doorbell buzzed. Jeff jerked beneath her. Apparently, he'd fallen back asleep. She'd almost drifted off herself.

"Noooo..." she groaned in protest, tightening her hold on him as his muscles tensed in preparation to get up. "Stay. Just a few more minutes. _Please_."

When there wasn't another buzz or any knocking, he relaxed back into bed. And it was just so blissfully perfect. They'd have to get up soon to get ready to go, but ten more minutes lying naked and content with Jeff Clarke was worth ignoring all the outside world.

"See. They went away. It wasn't anything."

"We probably should be getting up, anyway." He sounded just as enthused about the prospect of showering and dressing and heading into the hospital as she did. His delightful -so strong and warm- hands stroked along her spine, sending prickles of pleasure over her skin.

One of their phones buzzed, and it proceeded to vibrate over the edge of the bedside table and onto the rug with a muted thump. _Damn_. A glance at the remaining one allowed her to avoid the real world for a while longer, though.

"It was yours," she said, rolling off from him into the tangled up mess of blankets. She'd have to throw them all into the wash after that enthusiastic 'good morning' tryst. You'd think there wouldn't be as much clean up when they didn't have to worry about being careful. But without condoms, Sarah had learned sexual encounters were actually quite a bit messier. She definitely needed a shower. She groaned in protest to the idea of getting ready for the day, and also to the fact that Jeff had gotten out of bed to retrieve his phone.

"It's Nat," he announced with a frown. That worry line he sometimes got appearing between his brows. It was one she unfortunately knew well, since he'd done a lot of worrying about her when they first became friends and she was being stalked. "She's here."

"It couldn't wait until you got to the hospital?" Sarah felt equal parts worried and annoyed as she watched Jeff grab the pair of flannel pajama bottoms he'd worn to bed, wrinkle his nose at them and go for yesterday's jeans instead. (Guess she'd need to throw those in the wash along with all the bedding.)

"Must be important." He snagged a t-shirt as he headed out of the bedroom, and she hoped to god he managed to put it on before he got to the front door.

Okay, so she apparently could feel territorial, too.

Or maybe she just felt bad for Natalie Manning. The woman didn't need what she'd lost (that nicely toned, salt and pepper dabbled chest, flat stomach and those delectable strong arms of his) shoved in her face. Then again, she'd been the one that pulled the plug on their brief relationship. Had it even been that much? Sarah knew that Jeff had possessed some serious feelings for the attractive doctor. But it hadn't seemed to get far enough to be called an actual relationship. He'd confided in Sarah that all it was to Natalie was a sort of rebound fling... Apparently.

So then why the hell was the woman at his door at 7:30am, buzzing the doorbell and texting, getting him to leave the cozy warmth of his bed and his naked girlfriend?

Sarah shoved the venomous little thought aside. She'd woken up in such a good mood, to kisses and touches and other delights. And she liked Dr. Manning. She really did. She was a thoughtful, compassionate woman and an excellent doctor.

It was just... she'd been with the man Sarah loved. More than that. He'd been infatuated with Natalie Manning for a long time, even back when they'd both been married to other people.

Sarah rolled over a couple times, half falling out of the bed to force herself onto her feet. She should just hop in the shower. But she could hear voices down the hall. Jeff and Natalie talking. Not sounding serious. Even a hint of laughter. It twisted up something inside of Sarah. She knew it was jealousy. She knew it was irrational. And yet...

She decided a cup of coffee would be an excellent start to her morning after all.

Unfortunately the psychoanalyst in her was starting to wake up, but she ignored its snide little eyebrow lift as she pulled one of Jeff's dirty t-shirts on over her head and headed for the kitchen wearing nothing underneath the worn fabric.

"Good morning," she said in her most cheerful tone as she padded across the cold kitchen tile in her bare feet.

"Oh, hi, Sarah." Dr. Manning was obviously a little surprised to see the younger woman at her ex's place. Which surprised Sarah in return. As far as she could tell, the entire hospital knew what Dr. Reese and Jeff Clarke got down to at night. (And in the morning. And sometimes in the afternoon.)

"Would you like a cup of coffee, Natalie?" Sarah went about the business of setting the coffee maker to percolate, ignoring the incredulous expression on Jeff's face as he tried to figure out why she was being weird. And she was, wasn't she?

"That would be fantastic, thank you." Natalie smiled but her eyes quickly took in the younger woman's appearance before snapping back to her face.

Suddenly, Sarah was very aware of her nakedness beneath the soft fabric of Jeff's t-shirt, how her thighs still felt sticky and soiled, how she probably smelled of Jeff's sooty-sweaty scent and sex. But it was too late now. She'd succumbed to the jealous instinct and had to deal with the consequences, the shame of being so blatantly territorial.

It wasn't as if she'd waltzed in and draped herself around Jeff. She hadn't even really looked in his direction, just enough to see that he was standing on the other side of the kitchen from Natalie, the two ex-lovers leaning against opposite counters, casual but separated. Their body language was either completely innocent or carefully arranged to disguise their real feelings about one another.

Sarah wanted to believe the former. Because she trusted Jeff Clarke with her life and more. She trusted him with her heart.

She got some mugs out, the cream and sugar. But the coffee pot was slow to fill, so it provided her an excuse to stop being a possessive bitch of a girlfriend.

"The coffee will take a few minutes. I'm going to hop in the shower," she said, making a hasty retreat, ordering herself not to linger just around the corner and eavesdrop, which she did anyway.

"So, if you could come over tonight..." Jeff's attractive ex-lover sounded uncertain and needy.

"I'll always be there for you, Natalie."

Hearing him speak those words to another woman stabbed Sarah in the heart. Because he was always honest. He always meant what he said. And said what he meant. But she knew it couldn't be what it sounded like. She knew it wasn't. Natalie Manning didn't want Jeff Clarke in any romantic way. And he'd said that Sarah was the love of his life. And he always meant what he said. And said what he meant.

So Sarah forced her feet to carry her into the bathroom and the shower and tried not to think about the man she loved making promises to a woman who used to have a claim on his heart. Because that was being silly. It was being irrational to think such things.

They were old friends. Sarah knew it well. She also knew the way Jeff looked at her, at _her_ , not Natalie Manning. It was Sarah's arms he sought at the end of a rough day. It was her lips he kissed. It was between her thighs that he found joy, pleasure and contentment.

So why was she being so incredibly irrational? She was filled with jealousy and an overwhelming possessive urge to claim her man in every way possible. She tried to fight it down with reason as she washed the remnants of their earlier coupling from her body. Didn't that physical, tangible evidence clearly show who possessed him?

Jeff Clarke was _hers_ damn it. He was _hers_.

Why was she being so emotional? So moody? She hadn't felt so unstable since her hormones had been all out of wake when she'd been on birth control. But she'd stopped- _Oh, god! Could she be...?_

She put a hand out against the slippery shower wall to steady herself and took a deep breath, thinking. When was the last time she'd had her period? What was the date? She'd always been extremely regular, so you'd think that would've made her more likely to notice she was late. But she just got so busy with the hospital work, so taken up with Jeff, falling in love with him, that she didn't pay attention.

Also, she'd avoided thinking about it, charting it, looking for it. Because she hadn't wanted to put that sort of pressure on herself, or him, or them as a couple. But if she was pregnant, then it wasn't an accident by any means.

It had been her idea, started when she realized she didn't want to be on hormone-based birth control (making her feel all moody and weird). But the proposal hadn't been a hasty decision. She was in her prime child-bearing years. And Jeff, he was on the waning side of them for men. They'd talked about kids in an off-handed way before. She'd known that he'd wanted them. It just hadn't happened with Lisa (which Sarah honestly suspected was likely a conscious choice by the selfish woman).

And they were a little busy with their careers, but had managed to find the time for each other, loved each other, and were actually financially quite stable. She'd considered the wording to use for days, but of course blurted it out awkwardly anyway. But he knew her so well, better than anyone ever had. He'd understood her intent, that she didn't want to pressure him into anything, didn't want to make it into the goal of their relationship even if he did decide it would be a welcome situation. She'd just been thinking about how her life had seemed to turn down a different path, where it might lead, how would she feel about this divergence from her 'life plan'… What if they didn't use birth control? What if she happened to get pregnant? The idea had grown on her more and more, of having a child, of having _his_ child.

So, a few months ago, they'd made the decision and she'd gone off the birth control, knowing it might take awhile for her reproductive system to snap back to normal, knowing that it could be just as likely that they wouldn't be able to get pregnant as her getting knocked up. She didn't want to build it up, to get too obsessed, to ruin what she had with Jeff, so she'd forced the nascent desire to the back of her mind.

And now, it had come raging back full force, overwhelming her with an acute happiness, eagerness, anticipation and, frankly, fear.

 _Don't get too excited, Sarah._

She closed her eyes and did a meditation exercise as she dried herself off and dressed. Because the disappointment would be crushing if she allowed herself to get so worked up. And that was the precise stressor she never wanted to tarnish her love for Jeff Clarke.

But she was nearly two weeks late, wasn't she? And moody and irrational.

Jeff had gotten her some pregnancy tests to keep along with other female products at his place. It had been his way to make it clear that he was in favor of their 'let's see what happens' decision to stop using birth control, that she hadn't just pressured him into it.

Her hand shook when she pulled one of the boxes out of the back of the bathroom cupboard. It was silly. But try as she might, she couldn't force herself to be rational.

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 **A/N: Is Sarah pregnant? What does Natalie want from Jeff? More to come soon…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thank you all for following, favoriting and reviewing! It's greatly appreciated. And really does encourage me to continue writing.**

 **WARNING: This chapter contains references to mature subject matter (nothing explicit, I don't think… yet.) Next week's chapter will probably cause the rating on this fic to go up to M, so it will disappear from the main page unless you adjust the filters.**

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Jeff Clarke's day had started off really, really well. The mild light of the morning sun had woken him with a gentle prodding, and when he rolled over he discovered it was caressing his gorgeous girlfriend's sleeping body. It gave her brown frizzy-curly hair a golden halo and accentuated the healthy glow of her exposed skin. They'd kicked off most of the blankets, as usually happened in the night, and her tank top was rucked up, caught just beneath her breasts, exposing the smooth, perfect skin of her back as she lay on her stomach.

It was the swell of her buttocks that had been unbearably enticing, smooth and round with only the scrap of fabric of her thong underwear covering her vulnerable parts. Sarah Reese was a slender woman. Some might call her skinny, but her figure was too feminine for him to consider her undesirably thin. She was perfect. She was only slightly on the tall side of average for a woman, but she had long, shapely legs. And her ass was just... mouth watering perfection.

He hadn't been able to resist her in that prone, unguarded position, glowing and beautiful in the morning sunlight. He'd shed his flannel pants and had pulled the underwear off from her and was straddling her legs, kissing the small of her back before she stirred from sleep. He'd leaned over her to whisper in her ear.

"Good morning, Strawberry."

She made a darling waking noise in response, not yet coherent enough for words. But Jeff knew how to rouse the young woman from her morning daze. He kissed his way down her back, drawing more cute little noises from her as she rose from the depths of unconsciousness. He kissed the swell of her left buttock, and then unable to resist, gave the smooth, full, supple flesh a bite. Just a little nip. But it made her squeak and jerk.

She tried to roll over onto her back, but he put he grabbed her waist and pinned her down on her stomach.

"Stay." He'd waited a moment to see if she shot down his attempt to assert control over her, but she didn't laugh at him or try to throw him off from her, or tell him she wasn't in the mood to entertain his male ego. And for Sarah, doing what he said without curious inquiries was the same as compliance and consent. Actually, he'd learned that she sometimes liked to surrender control to him. It kept things more interesting. He enjoyed making love to her as equals, but he also liked when she took control or allowed him to dominate her.

And that morning, she'd submitted to him with little prompting, and utterly destroyed him in the process. He was so far gone for her, he would do literally anything she asked of him. Yet, she either didn't know she had him wrapped around her slender little fingers, or was good-hearted enough not to take advantage of that fact. Or maybe she just loved him in return.

He hoped that was the case. But she'd been weird since Natalie showed up later that morning. Sarah had even turned him down for lunch, the first time she'd done that since they'd officially started seeing one another six months ago.

Had it really only been six months? He'd never been as close to anyone as he was to Sarah Reese. It felt like they'd known each other for years. Maybe it was just her ability to-

"Jeff, you still on this planet?" Natalie smiled at him, but her brow was furrowed with concern. He shook off the horrifying thought that Sarah was upset with him, or maybe the novelty of their relationship had worn off, and she didn't really feel the way he felt about her. (A sadly common occurrence in his romantic history.)

"Uh, yeah." He gave his old friend a smile. "We still on for tonight?"

"If you're feeling up to it..." Her brown eyes were studying him. Was his worry about Sarah's odd behavior so obvious?

"Of course. I'm happy to do it."

"Thanks." Nat gave his arm a squeeze, her hand lingering. She hadn't touched him in such a way since she'd ended their brief affair. It wasn't really inappropriate, just more intimate than generally occurred between former-lovers trying to be friends again (and therefore carefully avoiding physical contact).

Only, why did it feel inappropriate?

Maybe it was because when he glanced up from Nat's smiling face, he caught the look on Sarah Reese's before she turned and fled the ED the way she came. Her perceptive brown eyes had been large, her wide mouth pursed into a frown. He might as well have stabbed her. He'd done nothing wrong and yet, he couldn't feel angry over what was obviously just unfounded jealousy on her part. All he could think about was going after her and making it right.

So of course that's when alarms when off in one of his patient's rooms. April called for his assistance, and he had no choice but to let the woman he loved run away, probably thinking the worst of him.

Because he was a resident now and had more responsibilities. He hadn't minded being a med student much. The US Marine Corps had taught him how to follow orders, not blindly, but without hesitation. But being a CFD lieutenant with a squad of his own had accustomed him to carrying the burden of other people's lives. It wasn't a light one.

He'd have to figure out why his friendship with Nat bothered Sarah so much and how to fix things later. He _would_ fix it.

The latex of the glove snapped against the sensitive skin of his wrist as he pulled it on, forcing out any last lingering distractions as April announced the dropping stats of his pneumonia patient.

...

Sarah rapped on the door and stepped inside before she could chicken out again. Her mentor looked up from the papers he'd been studying, pulling his reading glasses off his face to allow his eyes to focus on her.

"Is there something I can help you with, Dr. Reese?"

Dr. Charles had that expression on his face that Sarah deeply envied. She never could manage to emulate its non-judgmental (yet not distant or aloof, either), open (but not artificially friendly), curious and warm aspect. Maybe it took most people years of practice. It would likely take her even longer. But it probably came naturally to the older psychiatrist. Because 'compassionate listener' seemed to be who the man was at his core.

She on the other hand... She was just curious, almost nosy. That's why she was drawn to psychiatry, trying to figure out what was going on in other people's heads, like a gossipy neighbor peeking through the blinds. God, she was a horrible person. She was even being petty in her personal life, feeling jealous and resentful of Natalie Manning for absolutely no reason. Just because the beautiful, perfect woman had the audacity to be friends with Jeff Clarke.

"Did the sedatives not calm Mrs. Wilson?"

She blinked and shook her head to get the poisonous, irrational thoughts out.

"Did you try upping the dosage?" Dr. Charles pushed his chair away from his desk and started to get to his feet. "

"Yes. I mean, no." Sarah took a breath. "Mrs. Wilson is fine. I just checked on her and she's resting comfortably."

His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he sat back down and waited for her to explain herself.

"There was something I was wondering about..." _Oh, just ask_. "Do you know any techniques for controlling irrational thoughts?"

His dark brows lifted. And yet that non-judgmental, friendly-but-not-too-friendly expression remained as he gestured to the chair across from his desk. Sarah tried not to look too relieved as she plopped down into it, her legs and feet aching. It was strange how sometimes you didn't realize how fatigued you were until you finally stopped moving.

"What sort of _irrational_ thoughts are we talking about?" he said, taking on his lecturer's tone. "Because that very much influences the manner in which they should be dealt with. Also, the source needs to be taken into consideration, whether they're resultant from a serious underlying mental or physical condition."

 _Physical condition_? God, was she so incredibly transparent? How could he know? She had just barely got her blood test results back.

"Just unfounded feelings..."

He made a thoughtful noise and shifted, leaning forward slightly, a clear indicator he was not only engaged in the conversation but perhaps a little worried by it.

"As you know, Dr. Reese, feelings are never unfounded," he said. "Whether they're a psychological response to an event or physically-induced."

She sighed. He was correct. And she knew where her irrational thoughts were coming from. And there was no way her mentor hadn't figured out she was talking about herself.

"I know you can't just prescribe a treatment for a patient you haven't evaluated yourself..."

"But I can give advice to a friend." He gave her a smile and his expression warmed a little further from professional to downright amiable. "What's bothering you, Sarah?"

Just get it over with, like ripping a band-aid off. Because she hadn't gotten anywhere mulling everything over and over in her own head, trying to calm herself down and fight her stupid feelings, figure out a way to let Jeff know how she was feeling without hurting him, or insulting him. Because he had done nothing wrong. It was all in her head.

"I was at my uh, boyfriend's apartment this morning and his ex showed up. They're still friends. And I trust him. I really, really do. But-"

"Seeing Dr. Clarke and Dr. Manning together, even platonically makes you jealous." Of course, Dr. Charles knew who she was romantically involved with, knew that Jeff and Natalie had had a brief affair a year ago. It actually made her feel a little better to know that the always professional-seeming psychiatrist might just be a plain old nosy neighbor at heart, too.

Sarah nodded, biting her lip as she battled with herself to give him the whole story. Doctors always needed a complete history, a complete picture in order to give the best diagnosis and treatment, didn't they?

"And I'm pregnant."

Even the seasoned therapist couldn't mask his surprise. But he quickly tempered it witha slight grin and curious, studious gaze.

"Congratulations?"

Sarah supposed he was right to hedge his bets by making it a question.

"It's not an entirely unplanned." Dr. Charles blinked at her, and more information than strictly necessary spewed from her mouth. "We weren't actively trying. Just not using birth control. But not for stupid reasons like comfort or anything. We discussed it and decided to just see what happened. But I didn't think the first sign of being pregnant would be having irrational thoughts."

Now her mentor's professional distance had melted entirely into genial rapport as he chuckled good-naturedly and reached to pat her hand.

"Seems to me that your irrationality is perfectly rational," he said, smiling at her. "Its roots are probably in an instinct evolved before homo sapiens even existed as a species. You're feeling territorial about the man who's fathering your offspring."

Sarah frowned. His reasoned argument was making her feel better. But it probably wouldn't prevent her from turning into a green-eyed monster if she saw Dr. Manning touching Jeff again.

"You're saying that my jealousy isn't irrational, probably just unfounded," she said, trying to summarize the conversation to wrap her brain around it. "That it doesn't mean I'm doubting Jeff. Just that I..." she blushed. "I love him."

"Love's a complicated thing." He winked.

Sarah was beaming a little when she got up. She'd been afraid that the man she respected would think less of her for bothering him with such silly problems, or worse think she was as petty as she'd felt. But he actually seemed to like her, was a friend to her, even seemed to be happy for her as he smiled and congratulated her again on the impending child.

Oh, god.

"I, uh, I just found out today," she said, feeling anxious again. "I haven't even told Jeff yet. And he acts all unflappable but it would hurt him if he learned that I didn't tell him first."

"Sarah, not even as a psychiatrist, but as a friend, I hold our conversations in the strictest confidence," he said, looking serious once again. "But you had better tell him as soon as possible if you want him to hear it from you. There's a lot of observant doctors around here. And gossipy ones, too."

Dr. Charles was right. He most often was. But by the time she had made her way back to the ED, Jeff had already left for the day... with Natalie Manning.

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 **A/N: Will Sarah be able to break her news to Jeff? Or will something or someone else get in the way? What is he doing with Natalie? (Promise it will be revealed in the next chapter. Also likely to involve some smut and this fic will be bumped up to a higher rating.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Sorry, guys. A lot going on in my life at the moment. So updates have been more along the lines of a week and a half. (But better than none, right?). Again thank you for favoriting, following and reviewing. It keeps me motivated to know you're reading and enjoying.**

 **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MATURE SUBJECT MATTER**

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Spending time with Natalie Manning had been a good thing. Jeff had been a little apprehensive at first. Because they hadn't seemed to be able to get back to the easy friendship they'd had before their fling. Of course, it had been his own fault, not being upfront about how he'd had feelings for her for so very long, how he'd drunkenly, stupidly informed her late husband, his good friend and brother-in-arms, that he'd coveted her.

He'd regretted not just the end of their intimate relationship, but losing the trust their friendship had been built upon. And that seemed to be returning. Rather than pushing Natalie further away, his relationship with Sarah had seemed to draw his old friend closer. Maybe it made her feel safe, secure in the knowledge that he wasn't expecting anything romantic from her because he was in love with someone else.

And so was she, frankly. He'd noticed the way Nat looked at Will Halstead. The way the red-headed Emergency Department doctor looked at her.

Jeff had thought about making a discreet, friendly inquiry, even about nudging her in the other man's direction if possible (she deserved to be happy). But that wasn't his business. And it was definitely not a subject to bring up that evening as he helped her go through her deceased husband's things. Jeff Manning's family was holding a memorial on the second anniversary of his death, and Nat's in-laws had asked if she'd kept any mementos that they could use for a little display. She hadn't wanted to go through the boxed up remnants of her husband's life alone.

And Jeff had done his damned best to keep it light, sharing happy stories about the man who'd been his best friend for years, closer, a war buddy, a fellow marine.

It had been rough. It brought up all those old feelings of loss, memories of death and suffering. And seeing the sorrow in Natalie's dark eyes was... well, it was tiring. He was looking forward to a hot, soothing shower and bed.

He tossed his bag on the floor beside the door. Normally, he was good about taking care of his things, but frankly, he just didn't feel like dealing with it. It was heartbreaking seeing how fleeting love could be, life could be. It was a knowledge buried deep in Natalie Manning's dark eyes and sad smile. Maybe that's why he felt like just ignoring reality for the rest of the night. Because it had made him feel guilty. Guilty over Sarah, that something was wrong between them and he hadn't fixed it yet. Time was precious and he didn't feel like he had the energy to face whatever he'd done to hurt her.

He should-

"Jeff?" The young woman actually startled him. Not many could sneak up on a man who'd had Marine instincts drilled into the marrow of his bones. Not to sound like he thought he was this badass warrior. It had little to do with talents as much as relentless training.

And he hadn't expected her to be at his place. He smiled. Because he couldn't help himself. The sight of Sarah Reese made him light up because he was a complete fool for her, wasn't he?

But she had a serious expression on her face as she padded down the hall towards him in her bare feet. It contradicted the effect of the silky nightie clinging to the feminine curves of her slender body, revealing she was wearing nothing beneath.

"Sarah, what's going on?"

He was confused, but also more than a little aroused by the display of so much of her _perfect_ olive skin. Skin that felt so soft and smooth beneath his hands, so warm beneath his lips and mouth, so utterly amazing sliding against his naked body when they were tangled intimately together.

She stopped a few feet in front of him, a few feet too damned far too appease his palms itching to touch her. But he held back, because there obviously was something on her mind. Her clever brown eyes studied him, her face otherwise expressionless, until they locked onto his own eyes and delved into his soul.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice quavering just a little. "You've done nothing wrong, but I've been feeling jealous."

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat as she confirmed what he'd feared, what he didn't know how to deal with, an insecurity that both frustrated and pleased him. Sarah had been jealous of Natalie, which as she just admitted, was unfounded. And yet, his much younger, attractive and smart girlfriend (who could do far better than him) was jealous. He knew that she loved him. But now he knew it was intense enough a feeling of attachment that she guarded it, was suspicious that others might try to claim it. It pleased him to know she felt an iota as territorial about him as he did about her.

He was hers. And she was his. But, "I never intended to make you uncomfortable. But Natalie's a friend. And I couldn't let her face memories of her loss alone."

Sarah nodded. "I know."

She stepped in closer. She smelled like strawberries and bliss.

"I'm just feeling needy." Her dark eyes were still serious, but he could see the desperate yearning in their depths. It was easily recognizable, because it was the same mix of desire and insecurity that had been quietly plaguing him all day. A love so intense that it seemed impossible that it could ever be reciprocated, fostering self-doubt and something bordering on despair.

He cupped her face in his hands and she closed her eyes leaning into one of his palms and sighing. Waiting for her to open her eyes and stare into him again, he stroked his thumbs over her soft cheeks, enjoying the feel of her in his hands. And when she locked eyes with him, he knew she already knew, but also that it needed to be said. That she could never hear it enough times. He could never say it enough times.

"I love you, Sarah. You are the only woman I'll love for the rest of my life."

Her eyes got shiny, but no tears escaped. Instead, her smaller, slender fingers curled around his wrists and she turned her face in his right hand and kissed his palm before she took a couple steps back.

He frowned, puzzled, trying to figure out what she was up to... Until she pulled the straps of her nightie off her shoulders and let the sating fabric fall to the floor, wriggling a little when it caught on the swell of her breasts and flare of her hips. (As often happened) when she was naked, all other thoughts besides making love to the young woman ( _his_ woman) seemed to evaporate.

"Prove it to me," she said. (As if he needed the invitation or command or whatever it was.)

He was to in her a single stride, scooping her up into his arms and using all of his remaining concentration to figure out how to kiss her and make it to the bedroom without walking them into a wall.

All exhaustion he'd felt earlier had melted completely away, probably because it had more to do with the unsettling idea that Sarah was unhappy with him than any physical weariness. He was currently working hard (oh, so hard) on making her happy. Because he'd meant what he'd said. He loved her. Only her. It would only ever be her for the rest of his life. And he fully intended to make her understand that fact, bone deep, soul deep.

He'd kissed nearly every inch of her skin and she was practically glowing, purring with pleasure. He could feel her arousal and her bliss as if her body was literally humming. He kissed her mouth, swallowing her soft moans as he caressed the silky, damp flesh between her thighs, as he pushed a finger inside of her. And then another, beginning to stroke her plush, wet warmth.

He coveted the snug, damp, warm embrace of her body. He ached for her, for the pleasure of burying himself inside of her, filling her, and being fulfilled by her. But this was not about his needs right now. It was about hers.

Not that he didn't thoroughly enjoy kissing her mouth, her skin, sucking and nipping at her pert breasts, running his hands over her lean body, feeling the muscles of her thighs quiver and twitch, feeling her satin-smooth, damp insides convulse greedily around his fingers, watching her eyes grow dark with lust, her pupils blown wide and black as her pleasure reached its climax.

Her fingers dug into his arms, bruising, and she arched off the bed like a bow pulled taut. It must have been a good orgasm, because Sarah Reese was quite a vocal lover and this time her mouth opened wide only to release a silent scream. And then she melted except for her death grip on his biceps that pulled him down on top of her.

He laughed, burying his face her neck and nuzzling her soft, sensitive skin. She was panting like she'd run a marathon. And she was beaming, glowing, like she'd won it.

"Are you convinced yet that I love you?" He lifted his weight off from her, primarily so she couldn't feel how incredibly, painfully aroused he'd become by pleasuring her. He didn't want her to feel pressure to reciprocate, because he had done it for her. Not to arouse himself, or just to prepare her to be taken.

Her brown eyes trapped his blue-grey ones. And she looked into him in that penetrating, curious way of hers.

"Not enough," she said, holding his gaze and making him frown in confusion. Until she began to tug the waistband of his boxers down his hips. Then her intention was completely clear. "I need more. I need you, need to feel your pleasure. It's part of your love for me. Show me. Please."

No man could resist a woman begging for it as badly as Sarah was. Especially when her desire spoke with more than just words. It was in her eyes and her body. And her greedy but gentle hands.

She was still in the afterglow of her orgasm, her body soft and supple and slick. It yielded to him so easily, his gasp was as much surprise as pleasure when he was able to fully sheath himself inside. She moaned, long and low in the back of her throat, her slender arms and legs wrapping about him. Slender but strong, the tension gradually returning to her muscles, in her limbs, and inside. He groaned as she tensed around him, her body resistant, inviting him to make her yield once more. Or maybe it was just claiming him.

"Tell me it's the same for you," she said, her voice a low, husky whisper that tickled his neck. "Tell me that it only feels this way with me. Because for me, it's only you."

The woman had said she was feeling needy. And how could he deny her what she craved when all she wanted was to know he was crazy about her? Because he was. And he wanted her to know how completely in love with her he was.

And it was the absolute truth.

"It's different with you, Sarah." He was breathless, trying to keep it together, because she felt so _damned_ good. Part of him was glad they weren't the same age, hadn't met twenty years ago. Because he wasn't sure his twenty-something self would've had the kind of restraint he needed when making love to Sarah. Not that he held anything back. Emotionally, it was the most intimate he'd been with any woman. And physically, too, for that matter. But, "I've never been so honest or open with anyone else. And it's the hottest thing I've ever experienced."

A single look into her brown eyes could send from lethargy into acute arousal. A touch could undo him, if he let it. It was overwhelming and exhilarating.

"Good." She hummed with delight, and an edge of smugness. "You're mine."

"Yes. And you're mine." He grabbed her hips, sliding out and thrusting back into her wet heat, this time having to apply some force. She'd recovered from her post-orgasmic melted state, and she felt as snug as ever. Her body was that mesmerizing, paradoxical mix of supple and resisting, soft and strong, yielding and demanding, as she met the thrust of his hips.

He was on top but, as often was the case when they were in the throes of passion, even when he was technically in the dominant position, he had absolutely no idea who was in control, who was driving the experience. Was he the one riding her, pumping in and out of her, losing his control and restraint inch by inch, losing himself to her? Or was she the one riding him, her legs wrapped about his waist, thrusting her hips upward to take him deeper and deeper, consuming him, drawing everything he was out for her to claim?

Or was it simply a joining? More than lovers. Two halves of a whole, merging, coming together. It was like an explosive chemical reaction, and bliss was the byproduct.

It engulfed him, wiped all external awareness the universe from his mind. There was only exquisite pleasure and Sarah as he climaxed inside of her.

She clung to him, pulled him down on top of her and cradled his body against hers as he slowly returned to the world. The ecstasy of sexual release was really fucking good. But he thought he actually liked this part better, when she held him close, his whole body tingling and satiated and engulfed by her, her warmth, her scent, the humming of the blood in her veins, the feel of her slender strength wrapped around him, blanketed in her affection.

There was only one more thing to make it perfect. Despite feeling spent head to toe, he found the strength in his arms to raised his upper body off from her (her legs still held him firmly snug against her, inside of her). She stared up at him, her brown eyes warm and inviting and defining the boundaries of his entire universe.

"I love you," he said.

She stared into his soul and replied with two words that changed his entire universe. "I'm pregnant."

He didn't know how to process the information at first. His brain was still pretty messed up from the orgasmic high. Also, although they had talked about it, had made a conscious choice to let it happen if it was going to happen, he'd never dared to hope. He knew that if he wanted kids, he should have them soon, or else he would be too old to run around after them, likely die before they even graduated college (or high school).

How could he have gone in just six months from being so alone to finding the woman who completed him, and now the prospect of a family, too?

"Really?" He must have looked as shocked as he felt because she smiled at him, and it was a nervous little smile. Her eyes were still filled with unconditional affection but she also looked afraid. He couldn't blame her. Even devoting some time to, well, daydreaming about it, the prospect of being responsible for a tiny, helpless human being was daunting to him.

She swallowed, as if she, too, had a lump in her throat. "Yes. I just realized today that I might be pregnant. I had blood work done at the hospital during my lunch break."

"You can't skip meals like that anymore. You need to take care of yourself better." She laughed at him, lighting up. And he had to laugh at himself for scolding her without even realizing how ridiculous he sounded. She released him, letting pull away and roll onto his back to lie beside her.

"This is really happening?" His hand found her stomach slid lower to cover the flat expanse of skin that would soon enough be swollen and round with his - _their_ \- baby.

"Yes." Her hand covered his. "Are you happy?"

He turned his hand palmed up, grasping hers and raising it to place a kiss along her knuckles.

"Yes," he said. "Are you?"

"Yes." He released her hand as she shifted and snuggled up against his side. "I've never been happier. Or more terrified."

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled in her closer, breathed in the comforting strawberry scent of her hair. "Me, too, Sarah. But we can do this together."

She sighed and melted into his embrace. Sex was fantastic. But this? This was Bliss.

"I love you, Jeff."

"I love you, too."

* * *

 **A/N: I decided to end this here, since it was a good conclusion**

 **point and there was a significant lack of response for chapter four (so I removed it).**


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